


Le génie du mal

by rainbowdracula



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Punisher (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Face-Fucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:56:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowdracula/pseuds/rainbowdracula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Wanted - Model to pose for statue of "Satan after the fall." If you think you look like Satan, apply at studio in Hell's Kitchen New York.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Matt is a sculptor in need of a model for a statue of Lucifer that didn't mind being touched. Frank responds to the ad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Le génie du mal

**Author's Note:**

> Done for [this prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/6237.html?thread=11146589#cmt11146589) on the kink meme. Sorry I haven't been writing, school's eaten my whole life.

There was a wooden crucifix nailed above the door.

The apartment had tall ceilings that should've been vaulted and tall windows that should've been made of stained glass. The sculptor was wearing a stained white dress shirt, loose about his body. The light poured through the windows, piercing the thin fabric and revealing the shadowy outline of the sculptor's body.

Frank swallowed.

"Please, sit there," Matt said, pointing in the direction of a pair of stools. Frank picked the one slightly farther from the rickety wooden table with the clay on it. "You said you could do 'brooding' on the phone?"

Matt grinned, impish. Frank could do brooding, alright.

He settled down on the stool, watching Matt move through the echoing space with confidence.  His feet were bare. Finally, he sat down across from Frank.

"Are you alright with me touching you?" Matt murmured. Frank nodded, caught himself.

"Yeah, it's fine," he assured. Matt's fingers were long and nimble, stretching across Frank's space with the confidence of Matt's feet, before.

He worked methodically, starting from Frank's forehead, down the bridge of his prominent nose and sweeping across his jutting cheekbones. They danced along the edge of his sharp jaw, threaded through his beard.

"Satan's usually depicted as monstrous or a pretty boy," Matt teased. "You will be an interesting change of pace, Captain Castle."

"I'm glad, Mister Murdock," Frank replied.

Matt's hands trailed down Frank's shoulders and his arms, rubbing at the cloth of his dark shirt. "Would you mind taking off your shirt? I'd hate for you to get clay on it."

"Not a problem," Frank said, stripping it off. It fell to the floor in a puddle of black fabric. Matt's hand trailed down, brushing over Frank's thick chest hair and resting over his heart.

"You are perfect for this project, Captain Castle," Matt purred, leaning back. Frank exhaled.

The clay was red, and stained Matt's hands as he worked. Those deft fingers molded Frank's face first – the jut of his nose, slightly crooked from being broken, a brow heavy with thought. Matt's face was serene, like a praying monk.

"Now why is a good Catholic boy like you sculpting the Devil for?" Frank asked. Matt laughed like bells. "I saw that crucifix up there."

"Sometimes I think it's not the promise of Heaven, but the threat of Hell which keeps us in line," Matt said softly. "But there's an alluring quality to all those earthly desires that draws us to the pit anyway – a constant tug of war between divine punishment and mortal desire, if you will."

"Punishment can be a good motivator," Frank agreed. "It can be a reward in some circles, though."

Matt smiled, a little quirk of the lips, and reached out to touch Frank again, streaking red clay down his face and neck like war paint. His hands rested on Frank's chest for a long moment; Frank leaned closer, but Matt retreated back to the clay.

"I don't know if I fit in that category of person," Matt said. "I was raised by nuns, actually."

"I bet that led to all sorts of quirks," Frank said. Matt's smile grew a little headier, drawing his bottom lip in between his teeth. The white was shocking against the cherry red.

"Everyone wants to know that," Matt said. His hands kept working, slow and sure.

"I'd bet," Frank murmured.

Outside, the city was a cacophony – the roar of cars, the yells of people, honking and voices rising up into the cold, crisp gray sky. Inside the apartment, it was silence that settled like a wool blanket around the shoulders. Frank reached out, touching the edge of Matt's shirt. Slipped under it, spreading his big hand across the small of Matt's back. Matt sighed, leaning into the warmth.

Frank moved, spooning up behind Matt. He rucked up the thin shirt, wrapped his thick arms around that trim waist.

"Captain..." Matt breathed, tipping his head back so it rested on Frank's broad shoulder. The milky skin of his neck was exposed, and Frank kissed the soft skin, right over the fluttering jugular. Matt moaned, hands leaving the clay to rise up and fist Frank's hair, legs spreading widely.

Frank kissed up Matt's neck, lips tracing the reverse pattern that Matt's fingers had taken. His beard reddened the pale skin, and he finally captured those red lips in a rough and heady kiss.

Matt opened his mouth easily, letting Frank slide his tongue inside. He rested his hands on Frank's arms, urged them to pinch and rub at his nipples. Matt writhed against Frank, entire body like a sparking powerline. Frank's hand slipped lower, cupping Matt's groin.

Matt rose up to his feet, turning around in Frank's arms. He pushed them closer together, rolling his hips, and Frank's kisses turned biting, undoing the buttons of Matt's smock one by one. Matt fingers trailed down Frank's hairy chest, tracing over each individual ab before settling on Frank's belt. He easily undid it one-handed, unbuttoning Frank's jeans and sliding them down just enough so Frank's thick cock was uncovered.

Matt slid gracefully down to his knees, licking at the tip. Frank groaned, unable to look away from Matt's cherry lips sinking down his cock without a moment's hesitation until he was pressed against Frank's pubic bone. His throat fluttered around the head of Frank's cock, and it took all of his willpower not to come right then and there.

"You're perfect," Frank said. Matt pulled back, so just tip rested on his tongue, and sucked. Frank jerked his hips; instead of complaining, Matt just opened his mouth wider. The rolls of Frank's hips started gently, but they increased in intensity – Matt's mouth was hot and wet, and he just accepted every movement with long whines and moans that rumbled from the back of his throat. " _Fuck._ "

Matt managed to grin around Frank's cock, and he had to stop his hips lest he come earlier than he wanted.

"I want to fuck you," Frank confessed. Matt pulled back with a final long lick.

"You want me?" Matt asked, his voice horse. "Right here on the floor?"

"Anywhere," Frank said. Matt leaned back, that little quirk of the lips back on his face.

"My nightstand, top drawer," he said. "Hurry."

Like a dog on a leash, Frank rushed to fulfill the order and grabbed the lube and condoms from the nightstand. When he returned to the living room, his breath stopped.

Matt had stripped off his pants, leaving himself bare on the floor except for the smock falling open to reveal the long line of his body, arched from where he laid on the floor. He had one hand slowly stroking his cock and the other, ever so gently, rubbing against his dry entrance in the cruelest tease. His face was twisted in joyful ecstasy, breaths coming in whimpering stucco. Frank stalked over, placing the lube and condoms by Matt's head so he could press against him and kiss him once more. Matt wrapped his legs around Frank's waist.

"Please," Matt murmured into his ear, and Frank complied, lubing his fingers and slipping two of them inside Matt. The moan that filled Frank's ear was sweeter than any music he's ever heard. " _Harder._ "

Frank was pumping three fingers in and out of Matt almost immediately, and Matt was shoving his hips down, crying out for more. Frank was shaking as he rolled the condom on, unable to get enough of Matt's mouth and the squirming of his body.

When he finally pushed in, Matt's mouth opened in a wordless scream, eyes wide and lips parted. His fingernails dug into Frank's shoulders, his legs tightened around his waist. He dragged Frank down into a kiss, and rolled his hips down.

Frank tried to start slow, but Matt's words were syrup sweet as he urged Frank to fuck him harder and harder. He was jackhammering his hips down, and Matt was loving it, cries devolving into nothing but nonsense symbols. Those deft fingers were slipping against the sweat on Frank's shoulders, red mouth trying to kiss him but he just ended up mouthing at Frank's jaw and neck.

"Please, please, please, oh, oh, oh..." Matt stuttered, thrashing his head back and forth. " _Frank._ "

Frank reached down and wrapped his hand around Matt's cock, jerking him roughly. He barely got three strokes in before Matt was coming with a scream that Frank was sure could be heard down amongst the people of the street.

Matt's body clenched, warm and tight, around him and Frank ground his hips down, deep and slow. Matt's head lolled back, noises now breathy whimpers. His throat was covered in evidence of Frank's passion, red and bruising, and Frank came, fingers scratching against the floor.

They laid together, panting in unison, and Matt rubbed Frank's side, nuzzling close. Frank felt him smile against his skin.

"Aren't you a lucky devil?" Matt said with a snicker. Frank bit the crook of his neck in punishment for the pun.

 

-

 

The art gallery had off-white walls and people dressed in suits and dresses, speaking with low, murmuring voices. Various statues of Matt's were around the room, depicting various religious figures – the Virgin Mary, Saint Peter, Saint Michael – in the dreamy surrealist style Matt was famous for. At the center was Lucifer, torn wings spread, head tilted towards the sky with an unreadable expression on his face.

Matt kissed Frank's cheek. While he did don his funeral suit, Frank refused to shave his beard.

"Thank you," Matt murmured. All around them, people were talking about the symbolism of Lucifer looking heavenward, the placement of him at the center, the fact Matt did not sculpt Jesus or God. Frank wondered if they realized he was model.

Frank kissed Matt. He tasted like champagne.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr.](http://rainbowdracula.tumblr.com)
> 
> Title is from [this sexy, sexy statue of Lucifer.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_g%C3%A9nie_du_mal)


End file.
